The morning sun filtered in like silk—gentle, golden, unhurried.
Aria stirred slowly beneath the warmth of the blankets, the scent of chamomile and Leon's cologne still clinging to her skin. The bed felt emptier, but not cold. There was life in the house. Soft life.
She sat up, stretching, and listened.
Not the usual cries.
Not the shuffle of small feet—yet.
Instead, she heard something low and tender, muffled slightly by the nursery door left ajar.
She rose quietly, padded down the short hall, and peeked inside.
Leon sat in the rocking chair, shirt wrinkled from sleep, cradling Elias against his chest. One strong hand supported the baby's head, while the other gently rocked the chair.
And he was humming.
Softly. Not any particular song—just something warm and melodic, like he was making it up as he went. It took her a second to realize it was the same tune she sometimes hummed absentmindedly while rubbing her belly before bed.
Elias's tiny fingers were curled into the collar of Leon's shirt, his lips still pursed in sleep, a drop of milk clinging to his chin.
Aria leaned her shoulder against the doorframe and simply watched.
Watched the man she loved become something even more beautiful.
Watched the father her children had been born into.
Leon glanced up a moment later and smiled sheepishly. "Caught me."
Aria grinned. "Please don't stop. That was adorable."
He stood carefully, adjusting Elias in his arms before handing him off to her with all the practiced gentleness of a man who'd done this dance a hundred times already.
"I think he likes it," Leon said. "Though I'm starting to think he's pretending just to get more cuddle time."
Aria kissed her son's forehead. "Who could blame him?"
They walked back to the main room together, Elias nestled against her chest.
The house was still quiet. Lila and Amara were likely asleep in their bassinets, curled into the warmth of the morning.
"I made coffee," Leon said, heading to the kitchen. "But if you want tea, I'll make that too."
She smiled. "Coffee's fine. As long as I get to sit with you while we drink it."
He returned a moment later with two mugs and a plate of fresh fruit.
They settled together on the couch, Elias still tucked sleepily between them.
Aria rested her head on Leon's shoulder, mug warming her palms.
"This is the kind of morning I dreamed of," she said softly.
"Same." He pressed a kiss to her hair. "Though I never imagined three would fit into it."
"They fit perfectly."
He looked down at Elias, then back at her. "Want to read to them later?"
She looked up. "You mean tonight?"
Leon smiled. "Yeah. Thought we could start the tradition."
Aria's heart swelled. "I'd love that."
In the golden light of their living room, coffee in hand and their son curled between them, nothing felt rushed.
There was no boardroom.
No hospital walls.
No fear or tension.
Just the music of lullabies, the scent of warm mornings, and the steady, growing love of a family finally taking root.